Regency Vows: A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight. Julia London
it was the least I could do. Had no idea it would drag on close to a week without you turning up to call me out. And now we’ve got that bloody masquerade tomorrow evening, and I’ve been hearing talk of a pirate costume that is rumored to be de trop—and I doubt they’re referring to the volume of fabric—and quite frankly, Croston, it is indeed too much. I’m a man, not a saint, though God knows for your sake I’ve been trying. I demand to know whether you plan to come to London and call me out, or whether my sacrifices have been in vain.”
“Are you asking me to believe,” James said quietly, stalking toward him, “that Katherine suggested that the two of you pretend to have an affair?”
“God, Croston, you’re a slow one. Is that cognac over there? I could use a slosh.”
James grabbed him again. “You have no idea how satisfying it would be to obliterate you once and for all,” he said between clenched teeth.
“I’m half tempted to oblige you,” Winston drawled, “as it would extract me from my current misery. But I daresay all this enthusiasm would be much better spent between your wife’s legs. Although at the moment, one would be hard-pressed to determine that you have a wife at all.”
The temptation to bloody that curled lip was overwhelming. “Have you touched her?” James demanded.
“Only to hand her in and out of my curricle. Ride back from the park—perfectly innocent.”
“Nothing with you is innocent.” The idea of Katherine riding anywhere with Winston in anything curdled his stomach.
“The memory of my humiliation at her hand is ever with me. You’re more of a man than I am, taking that virago to wife. Good God.” Winston curled a hand around James’s arm. “If you’re going to take a swing at me, then do it. Otherwise, release me before I decide to take the initiative myself.”
If he took that swing, he wasn’t sure he could control himself. He let go. “Get out.”
“You’re obviously in love with her,” Winston said. “Even I can see that much, and I’ve got exactly no experience with love, nor do I wish to ever gain any. So what you’re doing hiding at Croston while your wife and her charms are back in London, I cannot begin to imagine.” He went to the door, still adjusting his shirt. “I must return to London immediately. From what I’ve heard of that pirate costume, tomorrow’s masquerade is not to be missed.”
“Get. Out.”
Winston flashed a damnable grin and disappeared, leaving James behind to contemplate the significance of Katherine’s pretend affair. But it didn’t take much contemplation because he knew exactly what she was doing: showing him she would not be taken captive.
He had failed her. On the Merry Sea, in Salé, in London, at Dunscore. He had failed her in every possible way. But devil take it, he loved her. And she was still his wife whether she liked it or not. Whether he deserved her or not.
Yes. Yes, he bloody well was going to go to London and fix this, and he knew exactly how he was going to do it.
“YOU MUSTN’T BE angry with me,” Honoria said as she swept into Katherine’s dressing room, which Katherine knew could only mean she would be angry with Honoria the moment she spilled whatever news had pruned those barely painted lips. “La—is that your costume?” Honoria stopped short, staring at the bed.
There was a certain satisfaction in answering, “Yes.”
“It’s...” Honoria shifted wide eyes from the costume to Katherine’s face. “Quite daring.”
“You disapprove?”
“Not at all.” Honoria went to finger the flesh-colored breeches. “I am undone with envy, in fact.”
“Ridiculous. Your costume is fabulous.” But Honoria hadn’t come here to discuss the masquerade. That much was clear, and it was a good bet what Honoria did want to discuss.
Honoria turned her back on the costume, and Katherine held her breath. “Katherine, I’ve been to Croston— No, do not be angry. James is my brother, after all.”
It was the one drawback of their friendship. “I am sorry for your misfortune, but in this case I do not wish to be company for your misery.”
“I’m worried about him, Katherine.”
Honoria’s tone gave her pause. She ignored it. “Your worry is wasted. He may not be accustomed to losing, but you may rest assured he knows from experience that underhanded battle tactics do not always succeed.”
“It isn’t like James to be underhanded,” Honoria said quietly. She took Katherine’s hand and squeezed it. “I can’t condone what he’s done—he was a fool, and nothing less. If he wasn’t my brother, I might even say he’s done the unforgivable. But, Katherine, I’ve never seen him like this.”
Like what? “If he appears to be suffering, you’ve come to the wrong person with your concern.” But her mind conjured up all sorts of imaginings of the state James might be in. She tried to feel pleased.
“Hear me out. Please.” Her gravity was a little alarming. Katherine tried to ignore it. “He’d been drinking when I arrived. It was only one o’clock.”
“Hardly uncommon, and hardly cause for worry.” Though not like James, but she hardly cared.
“He was half-drunk, Katherine. Rumpled clothes, unshaved, hair a mess—he was reading a treatise about pigeons, Katherine. Pigeons!”
“In other words, he is enjoying the retirement he’s been speaking of since he first came aboard my ship. Honoria—”
“No. You don’t understand. There was a quality in his eyes, Katherine. I’ve never seen it before.” Her voice faltered, and Katherine looked hard for any sign Honoria was putting on a performance. “It was as if he didn’t care whether he lives or dies,” Honoria said with difficulty. “Katherine, you must do something. If not for him, for me. I’ve already lost one brother—I don’t think I could stand to lose another.”
Now she was being melodramatic, but it would have been cruel to say so.
“I realize how much I’m asking,” Honoria added. “And that he’s been a complete, utter ass. I told him as much.”
“Yes, he has. He stole my inheritance, Honoria. He lied to me, betrayed me—”
“I know, I know—”
“—after everything he knew, everything I told him! I trusted him.”
“He loves you, Katherine— No, don’t scoff. Please. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
“If he loved me—”
“I know, I know. He never would have done any of this. But Katherine, this is James. You know as well as I how he’s accustomed to thinking. Orders, commands—if he could have commanded you to marry him, I am convinced he would have. Because he loves you, and he doesn’t know any other way.”
* * *
IF HE LOVED her, he would have found another way, Katherine fumed on the way to the masquerade. Such as telling her he loved her, which he’d never done—not when she’d agreed to marry him, not after their wedding, and not when she’d confronted him with his treachery.
Lord and Lady Pollard’s grand masquerade was a glittering sensation, a mass of fabulously costumed people swirling through an endless ballroom beneath painted ceilings and sparkling chandeliers. Dancing, laughter, drinking, gaiety—all of it closed in around Katherine while she tried in vain to forget what Honoria had told her.
I’ve never seen him like this.
Katherine caressed